While Bethesda has done a fine job developing the fiction of the continent of Tamriel, there's …
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"Thrice damn this bastard Orcish steel!!" I cursed as the hot sweat dripped down from my brow to sting my eyes as I hammered away at a particularly troublesome pair of gauntlets.

"You need to learn some Talos-damned patience if you wish to master the Skyforge, Isangrim!" growled a particularly surly Eorlund Grey-Mane. He had been up all night drinking in Jorrvaskr, the mead hall at the center of Whiterun and no doubt his head felt as cotton filled as mine this morning.

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"Here, like this, you have to feather the heat so it hits the steel at different intervals, so the temperatures differ over the surface and hammer, then do the whole thing again and again and again. Then build up the ridges in clay, fire the whole thing again and quench the steel. It's a whore's mother to get right but trust me when I say the result is worth it....speaking of a whore's mother's did I tell you about the time in that bandit camp I found..."

"Shut up you perverted old man, I wish not to hear your mythical tales of wenching while my head hurts so, and especially while I sweat like a fat woman over this forge!"

Grey-Mane just chuckled to himself as he turned back to the blades he was tempering "Whatever! Just let me know how you go whelp! And when you done there take this to that damned huntress, I swear to Talos for an archer she gets more cracks in her shield than that Housecarl of yours..."

Suddenly the sky darkened and an ear piercing roar echoed of the hills, followed by a flap of leathered wings

The shrill sound of screams filtered up from the town as a house near the market district exploded in a brilliant shower of flames. The shadow continued to pass over the city and looped around to spread destruction on one of the farms outside walls.

"Quickly Dovahkiin" uttered Grey-Mane "Grab your gear and get out to the farm, I'll go to try rouse the companions! But my guess is you're on your own". I dropped my hammer and ran to my pack in the corner, grabbing my helm and looping Frostfang, my war axe through my belt. "Wish me luck old man, Talos knows I'll need it, this one's a big bastard". Grey-Mane nodded a grunt at me as he turned heel and raced towards the mead hall

Panic was everywhere as I powered my way through the city. Buildings were charred and burning as the fire spread, all while frantic guards were trying to organise buckets to quench the hungry flames.

An old women cried out to me as I sprinted towards the gate "Save us Dragonborn!" Gritting my teeth I spurned myself onwards through the gates

In the distance I could see the dragon as it barbequed a group of oxen and a farmhand who stupidly thought standing in front of his herd would save them. I unsheathed Frostfang and steeled myself. I felt my guts tense as my mind filled with the voice I let rip a mighty shout of Whirlwind Sprint that catapulted me forwards at blinding speeds, using the speed to add weight to my swing, I drove my axe into the hind quarters of the viscous beast, and satisfyingly heard a crackle of energy as the frost enchantment attached to the blade dealt a blast of concussive cold.

The monster reared in pain, immediately kicking off and taking flight to avoid the unexpected attack. The air around my left hand started to shimmer as I silently mouthed an incantation. An orb of fire burst into being and I hurled it at the retreating dragon's back, catching it on the wing where it exploded with a volcanic fury, forcing the dragon to come crashing painfully back to Earth.

The fight was far from over though, the beast reared its great head and unleashed the full fury of its voice, sending billowing plumes of fire towards me. I was barely able to incant a spell of resist fire before the flames completely overwhelmed me, I was not quick enough to resist all of the blast and sustained a horrible burn down the side of my arm.

The Dragon leveled its gaze at me and spoke in a deep guttural voice that was so powerful it felt like trying stand against a hurricane. "Dovahkiin! You cannot possibly defeat Alduin! It is pointless to even try! You can't even defeat me! He will eat your world and there is NOTHING you can do about it!". He sent another ferocious pillar of flame my way and i struggled to keep the integrity of my spell intact. the flames died away and not an instant to late as the pressure of keeping my fire ward active became too much and I staggered to one knee.
I had to end this quickly or else I was doomed, and so too the world.

"No dragon. You are wrong! He will die, and there is nothing YOU can do. Because you are already dead". All of my training, All of my discipline, was forgotten in an instant. I became an animal or pure instinct and rage. a howl built in my throat and roared into a deafening crescendo.

"FUS!! ROH!! DAH!!!". The unrestricted fury of the shout caught the dragon square in the chest. dropping it quicker than one of Grey-Mane's fabled whores. Still with a bestial roar echoing like the sound of shattered glass and rusted Dweomer gears, I leapt above the dragon's head and drove Frostfang through the middle of the beasts eyes with so much force that the surrounding ground shattered and cracked.

An unholy wail built up around the dragon's corpse and its skin turned to fire then into a bright shimmering light. The light shimmered around me and cocooned me in its warmth. I felt the Dragon's strength become my own and my mind expanded at the new knowledge that was granted to me. The bleached bones of my fallen foe stared up at me looking dull, ancient and dead. I grasped Frostfang by the haft and pulled it free of the now brittle Dragon skull, incanted a spell of healing to mend my burnt arm and turned back towards Whiterun.

It was at this point that I realised that I had left my nearly finished Orsimer gauntlets in the fire back at the Skyforge. Oh well! Just another day in the life of a Dragonborn!